


Washable

by pyalgroundblz (acidtonguejenny)



Category: Static Shock
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtonguejenny/pseuds/pyalgroundblz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgil came awake slowly, sleep-stupid and puzzled by the shifting in his mattress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washable

**Author's Note:**

> Blatant fanfic cliche beyond this point. Ye have been warned.

Virgil came awake slowly, sleep-stupid and puzzled by the shifting in his mattress. And a steady stream of mumbling that could only be Richie. 

And the vaguely ticklish, scratchy-brushing sensation on his shoulder blade. 

It really says something that he realized what was going on before remembering what day it was. 

"Rich," he says into his pillow with a groan. "What about the notebook?" He flaps a hand towards the nightstand. 

Virgil has to concentrate to catch the distracted "Full," that comes in answer to his question. He frowns, attempting to look back over his shoulder with one eye. Catches a glimpse of his partner's crazy bedhead, his arm moving to spread Virgil's skin flat over the muscle. 

"You were the one who whined about ink in the sheets." Virgil yawns. And from there everywhere else, they'd later discovered. That particular brand of marker transferred very easily. Apparently. 

"I remember," Now Richie meets his eyes, flashing a placating smile--or what would be, if not for the hint of unrepetent cheek about it. The blonde holds the marker in his bracing hand up where Virgil can see it. "Washable. I checked twice." 

Virgil blinks at the capped utensil, trying to pin down what's beating urgently around in his head. 

"Hey! Those are scented!" He starts to rise but Richie, comfortably straddling his thighs, pushes him down again. 

"Hold up V, just a sec." He scribbles as furiously as he can manage on such an unreliable surface, tongue poking out. Virgil, face once again in his pillow, rolls his eyes. 

"Dude, I really don't wanna smell like strawberries all day." 

"It's Thursday." Richie retorts. Virgil doesn't have any classes on Thursday. "And this one is...blueberry." There's a pause as he checks the side of the tube. "Pink wouldn't show up." 

"That makes it so much better." Comes the grumbled reply. "I'll smell like a muffin." 

"Baby." The free hand smooths affectionately down his side. "I'm almost done. Just don't get sweaty or take a shower before I get the chance to copy it to paper." 

Virgil snorts. "Okay. I'll ask all the bad guys in Dakota for the day off, cause my boyfriend wants me to take it easy." 

"If you think that'll work, babe." Richie responds cheerfully. 

Virgil snickers despite himself. 

"Where'd you get those anyway?" 

"Found them in the kitchen. Amanda left them, I guess." He says, naming Virgil's niece. 

"Hmm," Virgil replies absently, beginning to sink into a half-doze. Then Richie's answer clicks. "Hang on, you got up? Why didn't you get paper-?" 

"Done!" Richie announces loudly. "Now _I've_ got to get to class. Remember, stay dry!" 

He leaves a quick kiss on the side of Virgil's throat and hops up, darting through the door before he can be called back. Virgil, deeply amused and pleased by the parting gesture, stretches and settles down again. He could stand a lazy day.


End file.
